I've been trying to work out why we seem to be reacting to this pandemic so differently from our forebears in 1918.
According to the news the absentee rate from work is running near 70%. They had anticipated 30%. The streets are empty, no one uses public transport and people are scared to go to work. I suppose in 1918 everyone was much more familiar with death. The First World War, lack of scientific health care, child birth complications and living conditions must have meant that death was something which was an ever present in people's lives.
I'm not claiming to be different from anyone else, until last week I had never seen an actual dead body. Now I've seen two - my daughter and my husband. I'm changing and I'm beginning to understand what it might have been like 90 years ago.
But it's this fear of death which seems to causing such fear. In our society we have become used to medicine fixing problems. If I am ill I go to the doctor and I am healed - it's just the way it happens. Except now it's different and we can't adjust.
People are just locking themselves in their houses and hoping to ride this thing out. As if by ignoring it it will go away.
Having just come through the last two weeks I know we will never be the same again, and that society will probably never be the same again. This is not something which you can avoid by shutting your door.
I've just realised something - I'm not scared anymore.
Saturday, 19 January 2008
Friday, 18 January 2008
Guilt
I never slept last night. Ironic really given my plea in my last post to wake up. The kids are very ill but neither of them are having breathing difficulties like Kirsty or Graham. I'm keeping them going with plenty of fluids and Paracetemols although they still don't know about their Dad.
I watched the news in the middle of the night and it seems like the infection rate is way above what had been expected, even in the worst case scenarios, and it's still nowhere near the peak that they expect to happen in 4 or 5 weeks. The infection is following the same sort of pattern as the 1918 pandemic with the 20-40 age range being the worst hit. In the Edinburgh area alone there have been 50,000 cases with nearly 15,000 deaths so far.
I can't leave the house as there's a possibility that I could still pass on the infection. The reality is that I still feel incredibly weak and couldn't think of walking any distance. Not that I would be able to drive anywhere as the petrol stations don't have any petrol for non-emergency service users - the drivers from Grangemouth are all sick.
I phoned mum this afternoon and she seems fine. Her neighbour is leaving shopping at her door and she spends her day watching the telly and completing jigsaws. I told her about Graham but the fact that the kids were OK overcame her shock. I phoned Graham's mum's residential home but couldn't get anyone to answer. She hasn't heard the news and I was almost relieved not to be able to speak to her.
Alison phoned me this evening and told me how the school is gradually closing down. Fewer and fewer staff are turning up every day and no-one is taking charge.
My over-riding emotion is one of guilt - I've survived - and so many haven't - but why? From now on I'm safe whereas all those thousands of people who have yet to be exposed must be living in real fear.
I took a call from an undertakers that they had been asked by the local authority to bury Graham in a temporary grave. I was strangely detached from what they were saying and all I could do was agree. I can't even remember where they said it was now.
I've made a decision - as long as the kids are alright on Monday I'm going to go to work. We can't just sit around and let things happen to us!
I watched the news in the middle of the night and it seems like the infection rate is way above what had been expected, even in the worst case scenarios, and it's still nowhere near the peak that they expect to happen in 4 or 5 weeks. The infection is following the same sort of pattern as the 1918 pandemic with the 20-40 age range being the worst hit. In the Edinburgh area alone there have been 50,000 cases with nearly 15,000 deaths so far.
I can't leave the house as there's a possibility that I could still pass on the infection. The reality is that I still feel incredibly weak and couldn't think of walking any distance. Not that I would be able to drive anywhere as the petrol stations don't have any petrol for non-emergency service users - the drivers from Grangemouth are all sick.
I phoned mum this afternoon and she seems fine. Her neighbour is leaving shopping at her door and she spends her day watching the telly and completing jigsaws. I told her about Graham but the fact that the kids were OK overcame her shock. I phoned Graham's mum's residential home but couldn't get anyone to answer. She hasn't heard the news and I was almost relieved not to be able to speak to her.
Alison phoned me this evening and told me how the school is gradually closing down. Fewer and fewer staff are turning up every day and no-one is taking charge.
My over-riding emotion is one of guilt - I've survived - and so many haven't - but why? From now on I'm safe whereas all those thousands of people who have yet to be exposed must be living in real fear.
I took a call from an undertakers that they had been asked by the local authority to bury Graham in a temporary grave. I was strangely detached from what they were saying and all I could do was agree. I can't even remember where they said it was now.
I've made a decision - as long as the kids are alright on Monday I'm going to go to work. We can't just sit around and let things happen to us!
Thursday, 17 January 2008
Part of me.....
Part of me wants to die, part of me wants to walk away and forget, and this part - my voice - needs to speak.
In the last four days my life has changed forever. When I started to become aware of my surroundings again reality seemed to spiral out of control even more than in the delirium of my fever. Graham, David and Libby all came down with the "flu" on Tuesday. The word flu doesn't remotely capture the horror of what we're going through. Flu is something you have, miss a few days of work, and then get on with your lives, but not in this world.
When I got out of my bed for the first time on Wednesday I went through to Graham, who was in Kirsty's room. His was face was blue, he had to reach beyond himself for every breath and his temperature seemed to be consuming him from within. Two hours later Graham died in my arms - drowning in his own lungs.
The army came this morning and removed him in a bodybag - I remember seeing them from Vietnam - soldiers being carried out of helicopters like slabs of meat. My husband, my man, us - gone.
David and Libby seem to be getting better....I'm sitting here typing this and not believing it.....I'll wake up tomorrow and it won't have happened....please let me wake up......
In the last four days my life has changed forever. When I started to become aware of my surroundings again reality seemed to spiral out of control even more than in the delirium of my fever. Graham, David and Libby all came down with the "flu" on Tuesday. The word flu doesn't remotely capture the horror of what we're going through. Flu is something you have, miss a few days of work, and then get on with your lives, but not in this world.
When I got out of my bed for the first time on Wednesday I went through to Graham, who was in Kirsty's room. His was face was blue, he had to reach beyond himself for every breath and his temperature seemed to be consuming him from within. Two hours later Graham died in my arms - drowning in his own lungs.
The army came this morning and removed him in a bodybag - I remember seeing them from Vietnam - soldiers being carried out of helicopters like slabs of meat. My husband, my man, us - gone.
David and Libby seem to be getting better....I'm sitting here typing this and not believing it.....I'll wake up tomorrow and it won't have happened....please let me wake up......
Monday, 14 January 2008
Mum
I'm writing this with Libby and David at my side. Mum made me promise to keep this thing going while she was ill. I'm only doing this for you. I went to the doctor today to try to get some Tamiflu. Our doctor's practice is normally superb but today it was chaotic. Of the five partners three are the mothers of young children and are unable (unwilling?) to come to work and one of the men has come down with flu. I couldn't get to see anyone and the woman at the desk, who seemed to be a patient herself, told me that there was no Tamiflu for the public as they were being used by key workers - who the hell are they? Mum is getting sicker by the hour. She won't let us into her room.
Graham
Love you mum
Libby
Kick ass mum
David
Graham
Love you mum
Libby
Kick ass mum
David
Nightmares
I’m ill! I've been awake all night. My throat seems to be closing up, my nose is running, I’m feeling stiff all over, I’ve got a splitting headache and running a high temperature. Graham has moved into Kristy’s room and I will try to stay in isolation from the family.
Graham's going to call the doctor this morning, I’ve stocked up with water and paracetemol. There’s no-one who we can send the kids to – who knows if they are free from the virus?
Graham and I have been talking through the door and we’ll use the mobile phone from now on. According to the news the virus will affect my breathing and will reach it’s peak between 2 – 4 days from the first symptoms. I’m going to miss Kirsty’s funeral.
Graham's going to call the doctor this morning, I’ve stocked up with water and paracetemol. There’s no-one who we can send the kids to – who knows if they are free from the virus?
Graham and I have been talking through the door and we’ll use the mobile phone from now on. According to the news the virus will affect my breathing and will reach it’s peak between 2 – 4 days from the first symptoms. I’m going to miss Kirsty’s funeral.
Sunday, 13 January 2008
David and Libby
David and Libby have been amazing over the weekend. For 14-year-old twins they’re incredibly different. Libby is highly focused, mature and dependable – David isn’t - but has an incredible sense of humour and zest for life.
In less than 48 hours they have taken on a role in the family, which up until now was left up to Kirsty. It’s as if she lives on in them if that doesn’t sound too crazy and I find that idea so hopeful.
David slipped into our bed this morning and gave us both a big hug – something he hasn’t done for four or five years. Libby made breakfast and kept busy answering phones and speaking to family friends and relatives so that Graham and I had some time. In an instant the trivial disagreements and fights which have characterised their lives up to this point have disappeared. I’m so proud of them.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about this at this time but I’m worried about their schoolwork. We’ve heard nothing from their school – aside from the radio and press announcement that all schools were closed. Having been into my school last week I think I can understand why – there’s probably no-one there. We need to try to have some normality in our lives and schooling plays such an important part in that normality – but will schooling ever be the same again?
I’m going to bed now – I’m feeling a bit stiff around my shoulders. I’m praying that it’s just the stress I’ve been under over the last few days.
In less than 48 hours they have taken on a role in the family, which up until now was left up to Kirsty. It’s as if she lives on in them if that doesn’t sound too crazy and I find that idea so hopeful.
David slipped into our bed this morning and gave us both a big hug – something he hasn’t done for four or five years. Libby made breakfast and kept busy answering phones and speaking to family friends and relatives so that Graham and I had some time. In an instant the trivial disagreements and fights which have characterised their lives up to this point have disappeared. I’m so proud of them.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about this at this time but I’m worried about their schoolwork. We’ve heard nothing from their school – aside from the radio and press announcement that all schools were closed. Having been into my school last week I think I can understand why – there’s probably no-one there. We need to try to have some normality in our lives and schooling plays such an important part in that normality – but will schooling ever be the same again?
I’m going to bed now – I’m feeling a bit stiff around my shoulders. I’m praying that it’s just the stress I’ve been under over the last few days.
John Docherty
Alison, my Principal Teacher, phoned me just after lunch to say that Mr Docherty, our Headteacher, had died. She hadn't heard about Kirsty and was so apologetic when I told her.
Mr Docherty was an old style headteacher. Courteous, calm and slightly patrician. I had my share of disagreements with him when he didn't appreciate some of my more radical ideas about education but we never fell out.
This is a very new and strange world we are inhabiting.
Spread
Graham has kept himself busy by organising Kirsty's funeral. It will take place on Tuesday at Mortonhall. We have had a steady stream of phone calls but very few visitors - to be honest we have asked people to stay away but no doubt many are scared of coming to the house.
I had to break the news to the two grandmothers. Graham's mum is 84 and lives in a residential home in Stonehaven. She was remarkably calm about it and told me about her mother who had lost two brothers in the 1918 influenza outbreak. They had been waiting to come back after having survived the 1914-18 war but never made it home. I found it strange that she had never mentioned this before.
Mum told me that she had been deeply worried when she had last spoken to me on the phone. She said she knew something was wrong - I've never been any good at hiding things from her. She is determined to come to the funeral, although I have tried to put her off.
I took the car down to Stockbridge to do some shopping but most of the shops were closed. I went along to the Waitrose Supermarket which was still open. The store was limiting the some of the things you could purchase and had provided disinfectant cloths to wipe down the trolley handles. Almost everyone was wearing a face mask which created a strangely disconnected environment.
On returning home I watched the telly for most of the day. Apparently the human to human transmission of H5N1 had started in Thailand three weeks ago but the poultry industry had tried to suppress the news fearing it would harm their profits.
Some of the workers at Phuket Airport had been suffering from the infection and many people from throughout the world had left to go home with the virus as a fellow traveller. In the enclosed plane and the recycled air most of the passengers of these planes had then been infected. These passengers had then started to fall ill within a two to three days of getting home - wherever that was. Unfortunately many of them had still gone to New Year parties giving the virus another foothold.
So often you watch the news with a sense of detachment - I couldn't make the shift to participant, especially when they mentioned that the Edinburgh outbreak (there are outbreaks taking place throughout the UK, Europe and throughout the World) had been particularly quick to spread due to the Hogmany celebrations. They mentioned Jenny and used her as an example of how easily the virus had spread. Kirsty wasn't mentioned by name but 75 people have died so far in the Edinburgh area.
They don't know how virulent it is at the moment but the experts are talking about it being much worse than the 1918 strain. So much of the information that they are talking about as to do with facts and figures. It's like watching an election with maps and graphs and interviews but underneath it all it's very very different - people are terrified. You can see it in their eyes. I saw it this morning and it's even more exaggerated when it's only the eyes you can see. I saw it again just a few minutes ago when I caught my own reflection in the mirror.
I had to break the news to the two grandmothers. Graham's mum is 84 and lives in a residential home in Stonehaven. She was remarkably calm about it and told me about her mother who had lost two brothers in the 1918 influenza outbreak. They had been waiting to come back after having survived the 1914-18 war but never made it home. I found it strange that she had never mentioned this before.
Mum told me that she had been deeply worried when she had last spoken to me on the phone. She said she knew something was wrong - I've never been any good at hiding things from her. She is determined to come to the funeral, although I have tried to put her off.
I took the car down to Stockbridge to do some shopping but most of the shops were closed. I went along to the Waitrose Supermarket which was still open. The store was limiting the some of the things you could purchase and had provided disinfectant cloths to wipe down the trolley handles. Almost everyone was wearing a face mask which created a strangely disconnected environment.
On returning home I watched the telly for most of the day. Apparently the human to human transmission of H5N1 had started in Thailand three weeks ago but the poultry industry had tried to suppress the news fearing it would harm their profits.
Some of the workers at Phuket Airport had been suffering from the infection and many people from throughout the world had left to go home with the virus as a fellow traveller. In the enclosed plane and the recycled air most of the passengers of these planes had then been infected. These passengers had then started to fall ill within a two to three days of getting home - wherever that was. Unfortunately many of them had still gone to New Year parties giving the virus another foothold.
So often you watch the news with a sense of detachment - I couldn't make the shift to participant, especially when they mentioned that the Edinburgh outbreak (there are outbreaks taking place throughout the UK, Europe and throughout the World) had been particularly quick to spread due to the Hogmany celebrations. They mentioned Jenny and used her as an example of how easily the virus had spread. Kirsty wasn't mentioned by name but 75 people have died so far in the Edinburgh area.
They don't know how virulent it is at the moment but the experts are talking about it being much worse than the 1918 strain. So much of the information that they are talking about as to do with facts and figures. It's like watching an election with maps and graphs and interviews but underneath it all it's very very different - people are terrified. You can see it in their eyes. I saw it this morning and it's even more exaggerated when it's only the eyes you can see. I saw it again just a few minutes ago when I caught my own reflection in the mirror.
Saturday, 12 January 2008
Kirsty
We couldn't get near the Royal Infirmary. The police had set up road blocks and were only letting through accident and emergencies. The hospital has been shut to flu admissions.
We parked at the Cameron Toll shopping centre and walked through side streets up to the hospital. There was a huge crowd of people outside the entrance. I heard someone saying the hospital had received a supply of Tamiflu and part of me wanted to join in - the chance of getting some protection for the family almost overtook me, but Graham pulled me round the other side of the hospital where our friend let us in through an emergency exit.
Inside it seemed strangely quiet - particularly compared to our last visit. Our friend explained that up to 40% of staff were not in work, and that of those who were in some had been working for up to 72 hours without a break. Wearing our masks and white coats we were never challenged as we made our way up to Kirsty's ward.
I've never believed in "mother's intuition" but I knew we were too late. Graham told me not to be so stupid but I could see from the way that he snapped at me that he had the same worry.
As we turned the corner I immediately knew Kirsty had gone. The ward lights were out and only one nurse was in the staff base speaking to someone on the phone. She explained, in a very matter of fact way, that Kirsty had died that afternoon. The other patients had been moved to the new centre in Penicuik.
Graham, who had been so strong, dropped to his knees. Kirsty and Graham had always had a special bond - something I'd almost been jealous of - and now he'd lost his girl. We were left in the room together standing at the side of her empty bed for what seemed like ages until our friend came in and led us down to the mortuary. He spoke to the woman on the door and took us into a room with lots of trolleys with bodies lying neatly in lines with the sheet pulled up over their faces. She stopped abruptly beside one trolley and pulled back the sheet. It wasn't Kirsty. I almost hoped there had been some mistake. Perhaps she had been sent to Penicuik? But at the very next trolley our hopes were broken - Kirsty lay there so peacefully. It reminded me of all the times I'd gone into the kids rooms to watch them sleeping. Even as they had got older it had been a special time and in strange way this seemed no different.
In my own mind I'd tried to imagine what this moment might have been like, particularly after Jenny's funeral, but I'd been wrong - I was numb, just numb - nothing else.
Again we were left alone and we said our goodbyes. I had to eventually pull Graham away as we needed to get home to David and Libby. I was surprised by my own strength, where it's coming from I don't know.
We got back to the car and drove home. The moment the kids laid eyes on us they knew what had happened. Libby ran to her room and David just stood there. I just held him in my arms while Graham ran after Libby.
We will get through this - for Kirsty.
We parked at the Cameron Toll shopping centre and walked through side streets up to the hospital. There was a huge crowd of people outside the entrance. I heard someone saying the hospital had received a supply of Tamiflu and part of me wanted to join in - the chance of getting some protection for the family almost overtook me, but Graham pulled me round the other side of the hospital where our friend let us in through an emergency exit.
Inside it seemed strangely quiet - particularly compared to our last visit. Our friend explained that up to 40% of staff were not in work, and that of those who were in some had been working for up to 72 hours without a break. Wearing our masks and white coats we were never challenged as we made our way up to Kirsty's ward.
I've never believed in "mother's intuition" but I knew we were too late. Graham told me not to be so stupid but I could see from the way that he snapped at me that he had the same worry.
As we turned the corner I immediately knew Kirsty had gone. The ward lights were out and only one nurse was in the staff base speaking to someone on the phone. She explained, in a very matter of fact way, that Kirsty had died that afternoon. The other patients had been moved to the new centre in Penicuik.
Graham, who had been so strong, dropped to his knees. Kirsty and Graham had always had a special bond - something I'd almost been jealous of - and now he'd lost his girl. We were left in the room together standing at the side of her empty bed for what seemed like ages until our friend came in and led us down to the mortuary. He spoke to the woman on the door and took us into a room with lots of trolleys with bodies lying neatly in lines with the sheet pulled up over their faces. She stopped abruptly beside one trolley and pulled back the sheet. It wasn't Kirsty. I almost hoped there had been some mistake. Perhaps she had been sent to Penicuik? But at the very next trolley our hopes were broken - Kirsty lay there so peacefully. It reminded me of all the times I'd gone into the kids rooms to watch them sleeping. Even as they had got older it had been a special time and in strange way this seemed no different.
In my own mind I'd tried to imagine what this moment might have been like, particularly after Jenny's funeral, but I'd been wrong - I was numb, just numb - nothing else.
Again we were left alone and we said our goodbyes. I had to eventually pull Graham away as we needed to get home to David and Libby. I was surprised by my own strength, where it's coming from I don't know.
We got back to the car and drove home. The moment the kids laid eyes on us they knew what had happened. Libby ran to her room and David just stood there. I just held him in my arms while Graham ran after Libby.
We will get through this - for Kirsty.
Friday, 11 January 2008
Suspended Animation
I seem to have been floating outside my body today - trying to do normal things - whilst the world around me seemed to be falling apart.
We couldn't get in to the hospital to see Kirsty, as it's admission only. They are going to start to use a barracks in Penicuik as a new hospital next week and they're moving soldiers out and into tents. We went to Jenny's funeral this morning and throughout I couldn't help but think that this could be Kirsty. It seemed so selfish when Ruth was going through such a difficult time. As one of my best friends I don't think I was able to give her the support she deserved. As has seemed to be the case so often this week I was glad to get away.
I did go into school this afternoon - despite Graham saying that I shouldn't. I was glad I went in but it didn't lift my spirits in any way. The authority seem to be trying to issue instructions as to what the school should be doing but it seems like there's no one there to pick it up. Mr Docherty, our headteacher, is apparently very ill and two of the Depute Heads haven't been all week. Most of the teachers who are coming in (about 20 out 100) are staying in their rooms and only mixing with their close ffriends. No-one goes to the staffroom and I walked round the school without seeing anyone in the corridors. It doesn't help that the heating has been off for two days. The janitors haven't been seen since Tuesday. I tried to phone the local authority head office but the phone just rang out. Everything is breaking down in such a short space of time.
I've been reading some of the links which Graham has found on the web and put them up on the sidebar. I find it hard to read them but perhaps over the next few weeks they might provide some help.
We are just about to leave the house to try again to get into the hospital to see Kirsty. Graham knows one of the doctors and he said he might be able to get us in.
We couldn't get in to the hospital to see Kirsty, as it's admission only. They are going to start to use a barracks in Penicuik as a new hospital next week and they're moving soldiers out and into tents. We went to Jenny's funeral this morning and throughout I couldn't help but think that this could be Kirsty. It seemed so selfish when Ruth was going through such a difficult time. As one of my best friends I don't think I was able to give her the support she deserved. As has seemed to be the case so often this week I was glad to get away.
I did go into school this afternoon - despite Graham saying that I shouldn't. I was glad I went in but it didn't lift my spirits in any way. The authority seem to be trying to issue instructions as to what the school should be doing but it seems like there's no one there to pick it up. Mr Docherty, our headteacher, is apparently very ill and two of the Depute Heads haven't been all week. Most of the teachers who are coming in (about 20 out 100) are staying in their rooms and only mixing with their close ffriends. No-one goes to the staffroom and I walked round the school without seeing anyone in the corridors. It doesn't help that the heating has been off for two days. The janitors haven't been seen since Tuesday. I tried to phone the local authority head office but the phone just rang out. Everything is breaking down in such a short space of time.
I've been reading some of the links which Graham has found on the web and put them up on the sidebar. I find it hard to read them but perhaps over the next few weeks they might provide some help.
We are just about to leave the house to try again to get into the hospital to see Kirsty. Graham knows one of the doctors and he said he might be able to get us in.
Thursday, 10 January 2008
Guilt
The pain of watching your own daughter lying in a bed behind a sheet of glass is unimaginable. They wouldn’t let me in to her room even with a mask on. Her symptoms have progressed rapidly to the point where she’s struggling for breath. Kirsty is asthmatic so her breathing isn’t great at the best of times. Why her?
I stood with my head against the window for what seemed like hours until Graham pulled me away. It was on our way out that I noticed the hospital starting to fill up. There seemed to be lots of people at reception and there were a few lying around on trolleys. Everyone’s eye’s seemed to be out on stalks and part of me was glad to be out of the place until I remembered Kirsty lying upstairs.
We took a short drive, leaving the hospital passing Craigmillar Castle and on to Arthur’s Seat. Graham had bought a paper and we sat silently in the car park staring at our thoughts. I scanned the paper and noticed many complaints from parents about the closure of the schools. They all thought it was an over reaction and the lack of childcare was placing too much of a burden upon them.
If they had only been in that hospital few minutes ago they wouldn’t be complaining. I’d read on the web last night that closing schools early was key to limiting the speed of infection. I was just glad the authorities had acted quickly here.
After a walk up to the summit in silence we drove back to the hospital and Graham left to go back to work. The health board had lifted their isolation order on us yesterday morning as there are so many other cases coming to the surface.
Eventually the hospital said I had to go home as they didn’t have the space for visitors. For that instant Kirsty was no longer a 17 year old but my baby and they were asking me to leave her. I tried to put up some resistance but I knew they were right but it didn’t make it any easier.
I’ve been living on my mobile phone over the last 48 hours and it’s great to have friends to speak to – I don’t know what I do without them. One of them – who works in my school – was telling me that the Headteacher has fallen ill along with five other members of staff. Apparently there are other teachers whose children have developed the infection and they are also off school. The authority is trying to set up an on-line learning service but the government’s plans to use BBC Jam have been shown up as the service closed in March 2007 without the plans being updated.
I’m going to go into school tomorrow for a couple of hours to gather some work and some addresses of some of my pupils. There's something strange going on - usually you face tragedy by yourselves but everybody seems to going through the same thing. I think it's guilt that I'm not in school and others are, who are experiencing similar things - that's making me even consider going in.
Our own kids are getting bored and spend their days on Bebo speaking to their friends. At first I worried that all they were doing was feeding the rumour mill but it seems they are genuinely helping each other. They are also making links with kids from other countries – they all seem to be in it together.
I stood with my head against the window for what seemed like hours until Graham pulled me away. It was on our way out that I noticed the hospital starting to fill up. There seemed to be lots of people at reception and there were a few lying around on trolleys. Everyone’s eye’s seemed to be out on stalks and part of me was glad to be out of the place until I remembered Kirsty lying upstairs.
We took a short drive, leaving the hospital passing Craigmillar Castle and on to Arthur’s Seat. Graham had bought a paper and we sat silently in the car park staring at our thoughts. I scanned the paper and noticed many complaints from parents about the closure of the schools. They all thought it was an over reaction and the lack of childcare was placing too much of a burden upon them.
If they had only been in that hospital few minutes ago they wouldn’t be complaining. I’d read on the web last night that closing schools early was key to limiting the speed of infection. I was just glad the authorities had acted quickly here.
After a walk up to the summit in silence we drove back to the hospital and Graham left to go back to work. The health board had lifted their isolation order on us yesterday morning as there are so many other cases coming to the surface.
Eventually the hospital said I had to go home as they didn’t have the space for visitors. For that instant Kirsty was no longer a 17 year old but my baby and they were asking me to leave her. I tried to put up some resistance but I knew they were right but it didn’t make it any easier.
I’ve been living on my mobile phone over the last 48 hours and it’s great to have friends to speak to – I don’t know what I do without them. One of them – who works in my school – was telling me that the Headteacher has fallen ill along with five other members of staff. Apparently there are other teachers whose children have developed the infection and they are also off school. The authority is trying to set up an on-line learning service but the government’s plans to use BBC Jam have been shown up as the service closed in March 2007 without the plans being updated.
I’m going to go into school tomorrow for a couple of hours to gather some work and some addresses of some of my pupils. There's something strange going on - usually you face tragedy by yourselves but everybody seems to going through the same thing. I think it's guilt that I'm not in school and others are, who are experiencing similar things - that's making me even consider going in.
Our own kids are getting bored and spend their days on Bebo speaking to their friends. At first I worried that all they were doing was feeding the rumour mill but it seems they are genuinely helping each other. They are also making links with kids from other countries – they all seem to be in it together.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
In shock
Yesterday was one of the longest days of my life. I think I've probably been and probably still am in shock.
I had a long chat with Kirsty on the phone this morning and she seems to be alright. One of the girls who were at the party has become ill and has been moved into intensive care. I’m just praying that Kirsty comes home soon.
Last night I couldn’t sleep and slipped out of the house and went for a long walk around the town. We live in a flat in the New Town so I was able to walk along Princes Street at 3.00am. It seemed strangely surreal the Castle was illuminated and the Christmas lights were still lighting the trees. Even with a gale whipping up the litter it was beautiuful. The occasional taxi sped along George Street and as I walked back down Hanover Street and along Herriot Row I thought back to just a few days ago when all was different.
I’d phoned the school yesterday. The pupils had been told to stay at home but staff were to report to work. Apparently many teachers hadn’t come in preferring to stay at home with their children. Of those who had come into work many had locked themselves in their classrooms and never ventured out. I spoke to the Head and told him I’d be back to work once our isolation period was finished. I know exams seem so trivial in such circumstances but I have great Higher class who can’t afford to miss any lessons.
I know I haven’t mentioned my husband yet but without him I would be going to pieces. He works for water company as an engineer and he told me today that many workers hadn’t turned up and their worried about how they can maintain the service if this continues.
There are apparently another 15 confirmed cases in the UK, although we don’t know where. Other countries have also announced cases but no deaths – they had all been in Thailand. Ten people have died in Thailand with another 250 suspected cases.
I spoke to my mother on the phone last night and didn’t let on what was happening to us – hopefully she won’t need to know.
I had a long chat with Kirsty on the phone this morning and she seems to be alright. One of the girls who were at the party has become ill and has been moved into intensive care. I’m just praying that Kirsty comes home soon.
Last night I couldn’t sleep and slipped out of the house and went for a long walk around the town. We live in a flat in the New Town so I was able to walk along Princes Street at 3.00am. It seemed strangely surreal the Castle was illuminated and the Christmas lights were still lighting the trees. Even with a gale whipping up the litter it was beautiuful. The occasional taxi sped along George Street and as I walked back down Hanover Street and along Herriot Row I thought back to just a few days ago when all was different.
I’d phoned the school yesterday. The pupils had been told to stay at home but staff were to report to work. Apparently many teachers hadn’t come in preferring to stay at home with their children. Of those who had come into work many had locked themselves in their classrooms and never ventured out. I spoke to the Head and told him I’d be back to work once our isolation period was finished. I know exams seem so trivial in such circumstances but I have great Higher class who can’t afford to miss any lessons.
I know I haven’t mentioned my husband yet but without him I would be going to pieces. He works for water company as an engineer and he told me today that many workers hadn’t turned up and their worried about how they can maintain the service if this continues.
There are apparently another 15 confirmed cases in the UK, although we don’t know where. Other countries have also announced cases but no deaths – they had all been in Thailand. Ten people have died in Thailand with another 250 suspected cases.
I spoke to my mother on the phone last night and didn’t let on what was happening to us – hopefully she won’t need to know.
Monday, 7 January 2008
It's true!
Everything is happening so fast.
Our doctor came round to the house with a doctor and nurse from the Health Service. He explained that Jenny had acquired the H5N1 virus when she had been in Thailand. He told us to watch the news as there was going to be an announcement this evening but he couldn't say any more.
He then said that Kirsty would have to go to an isolation unit for observation. We didn't want her to go but they explained that she would get expert medical supervision. If she's clear in the next three days she can come home. We have been told to stay at home for the next week.
I can't explain what it was like seeing Kirsty going off with them - it all happened so quickly we didn't even say goodbye properly.
We were told to take some basic measures can be taken at the individual level to reduce the risk of infection:
1. respiratory hygiene: covering the mouth and nose with a tissue when coughing or sneezing
2. disposing of dirty tissues promptly and carefully – bagging and binning them
3. avoiding nonessential travel and large crowds, where possible
4. handwashing frequently with soap and water: reduces acquiring the virus from contact with infected surfaces and from passing it on
5. cleaning hard surfaces (e.g. kitchen worktops, door handles) frequently, using a normal cleaning product
6. making sure your children follow this advice.
We were given this pamphlet.
We watched the News at 9.00 and PM Gordon Brown made a statement that the H5N1 virus had mutated in Thailand and was being passed on through human to human contact. He confirmed the death of a student in Edinburgh and that a number of other people who had been in direct contact with the deceased were being placed in quarantine. He appealed for any passengers on Jenny's flight to come forwards and make themselves known if they haven't been contacted by the authorities.
I went onto the web and found the following link - I hope they act on this advice and close the schools immediately.
I've decided to keep this chronicle going in the meantime as it's the only place where I can seem to stand outside the horrendous reality of what's happening. For the first time in my adult life I'm scared.
Our doctor came round to the house with a doctor and nurse from the Health Service. He explained that Jenny had acquired the H5N1 virus when she had been in Thailand. He told us to watch the news as there was going to be an announcement this evening but he couldn't say any more.
He then said that Kirsty would have to go to an isolation unit for observation. We didn't want her to go but they explained that she would get expert medical supervision. If she's clear in the next three days she can come home. We have been told to stay at home for the next week.
I can't explain what it was like seeing Kirsty going off with them - it all happened so quickly we didn't even say goodbye properly.
We were told to take some basic measures can be taken at the individual level to reduce the risk of infection:
1. respiratory hygiene: covering the mouth and nose with a tissue when coughing or sneezing
2. disposing of dirty tissues promptly and carefully – bagging and binning them
3. avoiding nonessential travel and large crowds, where possible
4. handwashing frequently with soap and water: reduces acquiring the virus from contact with infected surfaces and from passing it on
5. cleaning hard surfaces (e.g. kitchen worktops, door handles) frequently, using a normal cleaning product
6. making sure your children follow this advice.
We were given this pamphlet.
We watched the News at 9.00 and PM Gordon Brown made a statement that the H5N1 virus had mutated in Thailand and was being passed on through human to human contact. He confirmed the death of a student in Edinburgh and that a number of other people who had been in direct contact with the deceased were being placed in quarantine. He appealed for any passengers on Jenny's flight to come forwards and make themselves known if they haven't been contacted by the authorities.
I went onto the web and found the following link - I hope they act on this advice and close the schools immediately.
I've decided to keep this chronicle going in the meantime as it's the only place where I can seem to stand outside the horrendous reality of what's happening. For the first time in my adult life I'm scared.
Isolation
This morning was a blur with everyone in the family getting ready for work and school at the same time. By the time I got into school my worries from last night had disappeared and even moreso after I'd finished teaching 4T.
Then it happened - just out of the blue. I was called to the headteacher's office. In his room were two policemen and my doctor. They explained that my friend's daughter, Jenny, had died in the night and that they would like me to return home as a precautionary measure. I didn't mention that my own daughter had gone to a party with Jenny when she'd got back from Thailand.
I just felt as if the floor had opened when they said that our entire family was to return home and remain in isolation until they confirmed the cause of death. They tried to reassure me that this was normal procedure in such cases but my mind raced back to what I'd been reading last night.
When I got home my two daughters and son were already there. Kirsty, our eldest daughter and best friend of Jenny was inconsolable and just kept asking if she was going to be alright. What could I say?
This isn't what I thought I'd be writing about when I started this blog last week and I'm not sure if I can keep writing given the circumstances. Our doctor is coming around to the house in 30 minutes with some people from the health department. I'm trying to be upbeat and positive in front of the family but underneath I'm going to pieces.
Then it happened - just out of the blue. I was called to the headteacher's office. In his room were two policemen and my doctor. They explained that my friend's daughter, Jenny, had died in the night and that they would like me to return home as a precautionary measure. I didn't mention that my own daughter had gone to a party with Jenny when she'd got back from Thailand.
I just felt as if the floor had opened when they said that our entire family was to return home and remain in isolation until they confirmed the cause of death. They tried to reassure me that this was normal procedure in such cases but my mind raced back to what I'd been reading last night.
When I got home my two daughters and son were already there. Kirsty, our eldest daughter and best friend of Jenny was inconsolable and just kept asking if she was going to be alright. What could I say?
This isn't what I thought I'd be writing about when I started this blog last week and I'm not sure if I can keep writing given the circumstances. Our doctor is coming around to the house in 30 minutes with some people from the health department. I'm trying to be upbeat and positive in front of the family but underneath I'm going to pieces.
Sunday, 6 January 2008
Avian Flu in Thailand
Just watched the news and couldn't believe it when they carried an item on an outbreak of Avian Flu in Thailand.
H5N1 has evolved into a flu virus strain that infects more species than any previously known flu virus strain, is deadlier than any previously known flu virus strain, and continues to evolve becoming both more widespread and more deadly causing a leading expert on avian flu to publish an article titled "The world is teetering on the edge of a pandemic that could kill a large fraction of the human population" in American Scientist. He called for adequate resources to fight what he sees as a major world threat to possibly billions of lives.[9] Since the article was written, the world community has spent billions of dollars fighting this threat with limited success.
I phoned Ruth but no-one's answering the phone. I'm not usually a worrier but I have deep sense of foreboding about all this. Surely it can't be?
H5N1 has evolved into a flu virus strain that infects more species than any previously known flu virus strain, is deadlier than any previously known flu virus strain, and continues to evolve becoming both more widespread and more deadly causing a leading expert on avian flu to publish an article titled "The world is teetering on the edge of a pandemic that could kill a large fraction of the human population" in American Scientist. He called for adequate resources to fight what he sees as a major world threat to possibly billions of lives.[9] Since the article was written, the world community has spent billions of dollars fighting this threat with limited success.
I phoned Ruth but no-one's answering the phone. I'm not usually a worrier but I have deep sense of foreboding about all this. Surely it can't be?
Phone call
I received a phone call from a friend this morning which has left me quite shaken.
Ruth told me that her 17 year old daughter had just been taken into hospital. They had just flown back from Phuket in Thailand a few days ago where they had been on holiday for Christmas.
Jenny is having problems with her breathing and seems to be suffering from flu-like symptoms. We're going to pop round to see them tonight.
I went onto the web to see if there was a problem in Thailand but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
It just seems like yesterday that we watched the tsunami roll across the holiday beaches of Phuket on Boxing Day 2004.....
Ruth told me that her 17 year old daughter had just been taken into hospital. They had just flown back from Phuket in Thailand a few days ago where they had been on holiday for Christmas.
Jenny is having problems with her breathing and seems to be suffering from flu-like symptoms. We're going to pop round to see them tonight.
I went onto the web to see if there was a problem in Thailand but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
It just seems like yesterday that we watched the tsunami roll across the holiday beaches of Phuket on Boxing Day 2004.....
Saturday, 5 January 2008
Back to work
We go back to work on Monday after the Christmas and New Year break.
It's been a wonderful holiday and it will be difficult to get going on Monday. I've been doing some work this morning in preparation for the week ahead.
Veronica,one my best friends, is a primary teacher who seems to spend much more time than I do on lesson preparation. I probably spend more time than she does on marking but I sometimes wonder if we've got the balance right in secondary schools?
In the coming term I'm going to try to spend more time on preparing for teaching...ah the world is littered with great intentions at this time of year!
It's been a wonderful holiday and it will be difficult to get going on Monday. I've been doing some work this morning in preparation for the week ahead.
Veronica,one my best friends, is a primary teacher who seems to spend much more time than I do on lesson preparation. I probably spend more time than she does on marking but I sometimes wonder if we've got the balance right in secondary schools?
In the coming term I'm going to try to spend more time on preparing for teaching...ah the world is littered with great intentions at this time of year!
Wednesday, 2 January 2008
The Dominie's Chronicle
So here goes - my first post. Jean, my sister-in-law, introduced me to blogging (I've always hated the terms blog and blogging) when we went down to visit them in Norfolk for Christmas. She's a most insistent person - aren't you Jean - and set me up with this blog (ugh!) and an A4 list of instructions. I make no claims to have any technical expertise but she did make it look very simple.
I'm going to use this thing to try to record the exeriences of a lowly, bottom feeding teacher over the course of one year.
I hope you enjoy my journey.
The Dominie's Chronicle is named after A.S. Neill's Dominie's Log (my first link!!!) - one of my favourite books on education - and it also allows me to avoid calling this thing a blog!!
I'm going to use this thing to try to record the exeriences of a lowly, bottom feeding teacher over the course of one year.
I hope you enjoy my journey.
The Dominie's Chronicle is named after A.S. Neill's Dominie's Log (my first link!!!) - one of my favourite books on education - and it also allows me to avoid calling this thing a blog!!
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